


Oh, Are These Your Pants?

by apple_pi



Category: The Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: First Time, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-08-07
Updated: 2005-08-07
Packaged: 2018-07-28 06:21:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7628455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apple_pi/pseuds/apple_pi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“The door was open.”<br/>Billy blurts it out, manages to get the words past his tongue, which has suddenly turned to something with the size and liveliness of a jellied eel.<br/>Dom is just looking at him. He hasn’t really moved. But then why should he, Billy thinks. S’his room, innit? <i>And… why did I think I should come in again?</i> Oh yeah. “Um. Do you have any. Um. ToothpasteIcouldborrow?”<br/>Dom isn’t talking, and Billy shifts nervously from foot to foot. “Never mind, mate. I’ll just, ehm. Leave you to it.” And he stands there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Oh, Are These Your Pants?

“The door was open.”

Billy blurts it out, manages to get the words past his tongue, which has suddenly turned to something with the size and liveliness of a jellied eel.

Dom is just looking at him. He hasn’t really moved. But then why should he, Billy thinks. S’his room, innit? _And… why did I think I should come in again?_ Oh yeah. “Um. Do you have any. Um. ToothpasteIcouldborrow?”

Dom isn’t talking, and Billy shifts nervously from foot to foot. “Never mind, mate. I’ll just, ehm. Leave you to it.” And he stands there.

Dom looks at him, unblinking. He’s hardly moved since Billy cleared his throat and their eyes met. He shifted a little on the bed, that’s all. He didn’t reach for clothes. He didn’t try to pull the covers up over himself. And he didn’t take his hand off his cock, though he did stop stroking it.

“Yeah. So. Um. Later then.”

Dom still doesn’t talk and Billy’s humiliation is twisting a little, turning into irritation. Why should _he_ be embarrassed? _He_ isn’t the one sitting there naked. Lying there naked. Nosirree, Billy Boyd is fully dressed. In boxers and a tee shirt, granted, and the boxers aren’t doing a great job of hiding the erection he’s suddenly aware of, which, judging by how tight the fabric feels, rivals what Dom has in his right hand. But Billy’s dressed. _And_ he didn’t leave the door between their suites ajar, either. Alright, yes, Billy _did_ stand there watching Dom wank for longer than might have been strictly necessary. But. 

Billy is just, finally, giving his feet their marching orders _Hup one, hup two, get me out of here please_ , when Dom grins and speaks. 

“Going out or coming… in.”

And it’s just the sort of immature, half-arsed joke Dominic Monaghan can be counted upon to make given any opportunity at all, and Billy’s unease (terror) begins to drain away. He can crack a joke, too, and back out of the room, and this incident will go down with the shower incident, and the guitar incident, and the “Oh-are-these- _your_ -pants?” incident (and a few others and goodness there are certainly a lot of these so-called incidents): fodder for future piss-taking and jibe-trading.

Problem is that Billy means to open his mouth as he turns away—he _means_ to toss (ha, toss) a remark over his shoulder on his way out. But instead he shuffles further into the room, and when words do tumble out of his mouth, he’s no idea where they come from, and they sure as fuck aren’t a joke: “Haven’t quite made up my mind.”

Billy cringes, waiting for Dom’s eyebrows to shoot up, for his hand to let go that hard-on and reach for the duvet, for embarrassment to rear its ugly head between them (for the first time ever that Billy can think of).

But Dom’s eyebrows stay level and his expression darkens, goes just the tiniest bit feral before he stops it and smiles pleasantly at Billy. “If you’re taking the mickey I’ll be forced to kill you, Boyd,” he says, and his hand begins to move again, very slowly, a tight, squeezing massage.

Billy takes another step or two forward, eyes riveted on Dom’s cock. He’s seen it before, more than once—showers, locker rooms, costume changes. But he’s certainly never seen it this hard and flushed. Never seen a bead of clear, sticky—it must be sticky, and Billy wonders dizzily, too, what it would taste like—fluid welling up at the tip. Never seen Dom’s cock thick and taut, foreskin back, the bird’s nest of dark brown hair about the base all crushed down by Dom’s hand, still working slowly, slowly, slowly.

“I don’t know whether I should run the fuck away or jump you,” Billy says. He forces his gaze up to meet Dom’s. “Little bit terrified.”

“Hah.” It’s a bark, almost, a harsh puff of air meant to be a laugh. “Me, too. But.” He looks at himself, looks at Billy and then slides his eyes blatantly down to the tent Billy is currently sporting just below the hem of his worn t-shirt. “But ’m still hard. And so ’re you.”

“That’s probably a sign.” Billy comes closer. Another two steps and he’ll be right at Dom’s side.

“Probably.”

Step one. “…Of what, again?” Billy reaches down, rubs himself through his boxers almost absently and startles at Dom’s sudden moan.

Dom has closed his eyes, his chest is rising and falling rapidly and his hand is wrapped around his cock, motionless, squeezing so tight that another drop of pre-come well up at the tip. “That you need to choose option B.”

Step two. “Jump you.”

“Yeah.” He opens his eyes again. “Like. Now.”

Billy puts one knee on the bed, but pauses again. It’s not that he’s never done this before. It’s not that he’s never done it with a man, and it’s not—oh _god_ it’s not—that he’s never thought about doing it with Dom. But it _is_ Dom, and so he pauses. “You know—” Billy stops and swallows, feeling like the world’s champion git but he knows he has to say it. So: “You know I love you, right? And you know I won’t—can’t—won’t fuck this up?”

And Dom smiles, scooting over just a bit to give Billy the room he’ll need when he’s up on the bed properly. “Yeah, I know, Bills. Me, too.”

“Alright then.” And Billy climbs onto the high bed and right over Dom and leans down to kiss him, even though he still hasn’t brushed his teeth. Dom’s hands fly up to land on Billy—one in his hair, one on his back—and they kiss for a long, satisfying time. Finally they break apart to breathe, and Billy straddles Dom and grins down at him. “How long have you been trying to get into my pants?” he asks.

Dom rolls his eyes, hands plucking restlessly at Billy’s t-shirt. “I jumped in the shower with you, Billy. I borrowed your guitar and made sure to be playing it in the nude when you found me. I _stole all your kecks_.” Billy grabs Dom’s hands and moves them lower—might as well put that energy to work. A minute later Billy’s eyes are the ones rolling—rolling back in his head as Dom chuckles and makes good on the unspoken offer, grasping Billy through his underwear and pulling rhythmically. “So how long do you think I’ve been trying to get into your pants?”

“I just thought—” Billy gasps and bucks— “ah—I thought those were just random… incidents. Isolated events.”

“They weren’t,” Dom says firmly. “Now kiss me again, and let’s figure out what we’re going to do with this—” squeeze— “and this—” he places Billy’s hand directly on his own erection, no cloth barrier to blunt the feel of hard, silky skin.

“Are you always this bossy?” Billy leans down, stopping with his lips a fraction of an inch from Dom’s.

“Let’s find out, shall we?” Dom grins.

“Mmm. Let’s.”


End file.
